Gemotions

The air in the garage was thick with the scent of motor oil and sawdust. David kicked a stray tire, the sound echoing in the confined space. Mrs. Chen’s request hung heavy in the air like a physical weight. The maple, she claimed, was dropping too many leaves.

He picked up a wrench and stared at it, turning it over in his hands. It felt cold and hard. He didn’t know why he felt so awful.

He hated the idea of doing what she wanted. It felt like some kind of betrayal. He felt like he should just fix something, anything. He began unscrewing the engine of his old car.